Thursday 22 June 2023

Driving with Will: A Memoir of Will Coleman

Note; readers of my blog may not know that for many years I have published poetry in various local and Canadian outlets.  Recently, I've taken up trying to write creative non-fiction.  Below is my memoir of the distinguished Canadian political scientist, Will Coleman, who died on March 24, 2023.  Will was my friend and colleague for over 40 years.



My friend Will died on March 24. He’d been suffering from advanced Alzheimer’s, but died of a stroke.

I have many memories of Will, starting in the late 1970s when we were both young faculty members at McMaster University.

I left McMaster for Wilfrid Laurier University in Waterloo in 2003. After Will joined the University of Waterloo a few years later, we started commuting together when our schedules permitted. I would pick him up at his house at 8:00 AM, by which time he’d already been up and working for three hours. Normally a very quiet person, Will would start talking as soon as he got into the car, telling me everything that had happened to him since we’d last driven together. Or almost everything: I was completely unaware of a blossoming friendship with a woman down the street, Suet-Ha Loo, until he told me a few days before the event that they were getting married.

Will was extremely proud of his children and grandchildren. He loved his Sunday mornings baby-sitting Quinn, the son of his own son Matthew. Will and Quinn would sit on a bench on Aberdeen Avenue near where Quinn lived with his parents, and Quinn would shout “car,” or “truck” at every vehicle that passed.  I also enjoyed hearing about Will's daughter Kaitlyn, who’d obtained a degree in Museum Studies, and her interesting job helping to explore Toronto construction sites for historical artifacts. Will always spoke with great admiration and affection for his mother, whom he visited twice yearly in British Columbia until she died.

Will talked a lot about the various marathon races he competed in. At one point he was particularly peeved by a competitor from Niagara Falls who kept winning first place in their age category while Will came second, in part because he (the competitor) was at the lower end of the age range. Will thought this was scandalous. Once, the competitor was disqualified so Will came first. The competitor was annoyed, but Will felt he had won fairly.

I used to tease Will about his annual trips to a Buddhist retreat where he would be silent for a week or more at a time.  He was an extremely quiet person, so I thought he should go to noisiness retreats instead.  He accepted my teasing graciously.

After Will retired, I had lunch with him a few times.  We spent one long summer’s afternoon on the patio of Quatrefoil Restaurant in Dundas, with a couple of colleagues who’d come from Waterloo to see us.  Will was anxious to get home though, to feed his new wife’s cat.  The last time I saw him, I invited him to lunch with me and my husband at our house.  I’d gone to the local health food store on Locke Street, to buy some vegan food for him; even as his disease progressed, he still diligently maintained his vegan habits.  His eyes lit up when I told him I’d bought some vegan chocolate chip cookies and he was welcome to take the leftovers home.

Will was my friend: may his memory be a blessing.

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